


Grantaire and his Savage Antinous

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Bahorel and Grantaire's Friendship, Canon Era, Drunk Grantaire, Gen, Grantaire meets the Amis for the first time, Just pure Grantaire being Grantaire, Sad Grantaire, The beginning of love, set in 1827/early 1828 before Hugo introduces them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 09:45:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7527895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire meets Les Amis de l'A B C for the first time and by extension, Enjolras.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grantaire and his Savage Antinous

Bahorel was trying to convince Grantaire to take up kick-boxing again.

‘It is for your own good.’

‘No, my dear Bahorel. What is good for the body is to imbue it with some spirit from time to time.’ He gestured to his bottle. ‘The body needs refreshing, I am convinced. The medical profession must be aware of the effect of refreshment and spirits on the body and soul. Otherwise, I would still be painting landscapes that do not serve any purpose. Portraits on the other hand, portraits show the vanities of a man. All portraits are egotistical Bahorel, they all show a side of us we wish to show to the world. They never show you how you truly are, how you truly feel.’ He put the bottle down and staggered up.

‘I can manage very well. I am not so gone in my cups that I cannot tell the day apart from the nighttime. Incidentally, pray tell, what the time is, good fellow?’

‘It is time I must be off. And you should go home and sleep the effects of the wine and absinthe off.’

‘Say, where do you disappear off to, these days, my dear Bahorel?’

‘You would not care for it.’

‘Is it another woman you are seeing? Behind Mlle. Delphine’s back?’

‘No, you foolish man. I attend the meetings of Les Amis de l’ABC.’

‘Not a very helpful society considering they are only up to their A B Cs.’

‘It is a society for the education of the children and the elevation of the abaisse.’

‘Ah!’

‘You have heard me talk about it several times when we used to practice boxing.’

‘Take me with you.’

‘You wish to come?’

‘Have I said something incomprehensible? I wish to attend with you. I do not wish to go to the brothel and I do not wish to go home. I will walk the streets all night, if someone will keep me company. Take me with you. If anything, the wine here is not remaining to my liking. I wish to try somewhere else, dear Bahorel.’

Bahorel’s face was unreadable.

‘Very well.’

They walked towards Place Saint-Michel.

‘Come along.’  

Grantaire stepped inside the café and heard the gay laughter of people having supper or drinking wine. There were a few families, but most were young men from Royal Lycees and Ecole polytechnic who had come with their friends and were drinking to excess and making fools of themselves and men with their lovers.

‘Is this the honourable place to uplift the children from their unfortunate start in life?’

Bahorel walked up the steps quickly. There were more seats upstairs but Bahorel went past them and straight through a passageway that led into a back room.

Grantaire could see a map of the Republic circa 1792, hanging on the wall. His head was starting to clear from the effects of the absinthe. Bahorel was wrong, he had only taken four glasses this night. He was thrust into the glaring effect of the light from the lamp. He blinked as he saw the whole group at once.

Courfeyrac came forward,

'You know Courfeyrac.' Bahorel told him. 

'Ah yes, I seem to remember seeing you once and you borrowed a few francs from me.' Courfeyrac smiled.

'My apologies for not returning them as yet.'

'Oh, my good fellow, the amusement we had that day made up for the francs.' 

His manner was at once disarming and genuine. Grantaire could not help liking him.

He was introduced in turn to each member and they all smiled at him or raised a hand in welcome. A young man got up to meet him, ‘Welcome citizen. It is good of you to join us.’

He began by introducing the aims of the society.

Grantaire had read beauty described by poets and he had gazed at some beautiful women when he sketched them at M. Gros's studio and in his frequent visits to the brothels. Even so, there was a different beauty that shone from the young man’s face. The beauty that surpassed all descriptions, the beauty of Antinous.

He did not much think of the man himself though. He learned he was called Enjolras and was the leader of the society. He thought the young man was too fixed, too rigid in his ideals, too savagely passionate, too unwavering. He thought he was too idealistic.

As the night unwound, Grantaire did not do much except listen. Bahorel kept glancing at his friend, anxious that he make a good impression. As far as Grantaire was concerned, he would be happy to make no impression and none of them seemed to make too much impression on his mind. In truth, Combeferre seemed clever, a man who had learnt the secret of many sciences, as he watched him debate ideas and the one they called Joly seemed too much concerned about how his body may be affected by the imbalance of humors but he did not think much of them collectively. He did not think much of their ideas.

‘All history is nothing but wearisome repetition. What proof have you that a republic may not be corrupt and ineffective like the monarchies that went before it?’ He found himself saying, ‘Is it worth then fighting for?’

‘It is always worth fighting for freedom, for truth, the right to live without the chains. As soon as a man can shake off the yoke of oppression, he does better to shake it off.’ Enjolras began.

‘I am aware of Rousseau’s Social contract.’ Grantaire told him. ‘It is the right of the man to do as he must. You wish to do what you must to strive for liberty. I have the right to think that nothing will change.’

‘What do you stand for, citizen?’

‘Must I stand for something? Is not life complete with food, drink and a woman or two?’ he turned to the group as his comment elicited a laugh. 

‘Is it?’

Grantaire had no reply to Enjolras’ piercing question.

Afterwards, he admitted to himself that he should have foreseen this. It was Enjolras’ demeanor, the way he spoke so passionately for the things he believed in that attracted him, it was the way he was so clear minded, so confident of the truth. It was that Enjolras was a flame that burned too bright and Grantaire was a moth.

As he said, he had seen many other beauties in his life.


End file.
